


Déjà Vu and Other Movie Tropes

by ohthewhomanity



Series: And You'll Have A Place In It [10]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Character Death, Explosions, F/F, Gen, Time Loop, Time Travel, Violence, after 'Morpheus Maze' but before 'Cupid', don't worry though there's a reset button, goddamn it Beagles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:20:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohthewhomanity/pseuds/ohthewhomanity
Summary: “A magical hourglass broke on top of me, and now we’re in a time loop,” said Webby. “Or at least I’m in a time loop. The rest of you are just along for the ride, living this day as though for the first time.”“A time loop, huh?” said Louie. “Like in that Bill Furry movie?”“Exactly like that Bill Furry movie.”





	Déjà Vu and Other Movie Tropes

**Author's Note:**

> Posted (a day late) for Weblena Week Day 21 - Free Day

Webby was normally an early riser, up and dressed before Lena even began to stir. But this morning Webby opened her eyes to find herself alone in the attic bedroom. It was nine twenty-three, according to the clock, and there was a snowstorm howling outside. That was probably why she had slept in so late; snowstorms had always been the perfect white noise for her brain.

_ Literal white noise, _ she thought, giggling at her own pun as she looked out the window, because there was nothing to see out there _but _whiteness. Webby grinned, thinking of the epic snowball war that she and her friends would wage once the weather cleared up a bit. Team Magic versus Team Nephews. Yeah, the boys didn’t stand a chance.

Webby pulled on some clothes, including some thick fuzzy socks that were perfect for snow days, and padded her way downstairs. She found the boys and Lena in the TV room, a tall pyramid of muffins on the coffee table and an _Ottoman Empire _holiday special on the screen.

“Morning!” she said, grabbing a muffin. Huey, Dewey, and Louie mumbled various greetings from the couch. Lena patted the armchair cushion, and Webby took the invitation to snuggle up next to her in that comfortable way she always did.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” said Lena, “I was just about to come up and get you.”

“I was dreaming up snowball battle strategies,” said Webby.

“So how will we achieve victory this time?”

Webby shook her head. “Not in front of the enemy!” she said, waving her muffin at the boys. “When Violet gets here, then we’ll have a war council session.”

The teens had the mansion to themselves today. Beakley had accompanied Scrooge on a business trip to New Stork City this weekend, while Donald and Della had been on a Duck Twins Bonding Sea Voyage for the last week.

“I’m not sure Violet’s gonna make it over here,” Huey said, looking at the snow-covered window. “The roads haven’t been ploughed out yet.”

“Aw…” Webby took a thoughtful bite of muffin. “Her dads’ van is pretty tough, though.”

“I haven’t seen or heard Launchpad all morning, either,” said Dewey. “He probably stayed the night in St. Canard with what’s-his-face. And if he’s not braving the roads, nobody is.”

“Sounds like it’s a hunker down in front of the TV kind of day, then,” said Webby.

Louie sighed happily, sinking a little deeper into the couch cushions. “My kind of day.”

They stayed there, watching reality TV, munching on muffins, and making occasional small talk, until suddenly there was an uptick in the wind, and the television screen dissolved into static.

“Ahh, nooo, come on!” Louie groaned. “It was just getting to the good part!”

Huey lazily slid off of the couch to go to check the cable box, stumbling a bit as his feet hit the floor. He grabbed the edge of the coffee table near Webby to avoid falling, jostling it – knocking over a couple cans of Pep.

“Save the muffins!” Dewey shouted, but it was too late – the lower layer of the muffin pyramid was soaked by a sticky, carbonated puddle.

“Welp, so much for that,” Lena said, getting up and picking a few salvageable muffins from the top of the pile.

“Whatever’s wrong with the TV, we’re probably going to have to wait until the storm stops to fix,” said Huey. “At least we still have power overall.”

“So, what now?” said Dewey. “Watch a movie?”

“Or we could do something _not _TV-related,” said Webby. “Come on, guys, we have the whole mansion to ourselves! We could play dart gun war, or hide and seek, or Medieval Dungeon of Eternal Screaming –”

“Hide and seek, let’s do hide and seek,” Louie said quickly. “That sounds like the least fatal option.”

Webby volunteered to seek first – and everyone else agreed, seeing as the last time they’d played, the game had gone on for hours before anyone found her – so she covered her eyes and gave them all a reasonable amount of time to hide.

“Let the hunt begin,” she said to herself as she finally set off down the hall.

Webby put all her senses to the task of tracking down her friends, but then she came to a hallway with a long trail of puddles. Someone – multiple someones – had walked by in snow-covered boots some time ago. Duckworth or Beakley, whoever showed up first, would not be happy about that.

“Oh come on,” she said, “you can’t be making it _that _easy.”

But why would any of the others have gone outside, covered their feet in snow, and then come back in to hide? Unless they were trying to fool her with a false trail. No, no, these puddles were all water and no snow, and she hadn’t given them that much time to hide. If this were a false trail set in the last couple minutes, the snow wouldn’t have melted this much yet.

This was something else. Something suspicious.

Webby followed the trail further into the mansion, until she reached the end of the footprints – in that dark little storage room she and Lena had explored once before, that night they went searching for the dime in…

“…the Other Bin?” said Webby. Sure enough, the hidden vault door in the painting was hanging wide open.

Something fishy was _definitely _going on. And Webby being Webby, her decision-making process about what to do here was very brief, and it ended with her climbing up through the entrance and entering the vault herself.

She hadn’t gotten very far down the stairs when noises from below confirmed her suspicions: there were other people in here, stomping around, opening doors, and grumbling to each other. Thieves in the mansion, taking advantage of her uncle’s absence to rob him of his most dangerous treasures.

Webby reached the floor and snuck down the row of vaults, following the voices.

“…that old hag’s tip was good for something after all,” one of them said. “Ma’s gonna be so proud!”

_ Beagle Boys! _Webby could see their shadows on the wall ahead of her. She pulled open a door and ducked inside just as one of them turned back in her direction.

This vault was a small one, with only a little table in the center. On the table was a shiny hourglass, full of silver, shimmering sands. Webby had no idea what it was, which was exciting, because not knowing what something in McDuck Manor was meant she’d stumbled across _McDuck family mysteries and secrets_ – but no, she had to focus, there were Beagle Boys in the Other Bin, and someone had told them how to get into the bin, and that spelled trouble on multiple levels.

Webby put her ear to the door, trying to hear which way the boys had gone, her brain abuzz. What should she do? Go back and get the others? Confront them before they let something dangerous loose? Let them keep opening doors until they got themselves gored by a sword horse? Each option was appealing for a different reason.

“What d’you think’s in this one?” came a voice from right outside the door, and Webby realized too late that this vault door opened _inwards _–

Bigtime Beagle kicked the door open, knocking Webby backwards and into the little table, which also fell over. The hourglass hit the ground and shattered, sending that silver sand everywhere, but mostly on top of Webby. She coughed and blinked, trying to clear her eyes and airways of the dust.

“It’s one of the brats!” Bigtime shouted. “We’ve been made!”

Webby jumped to her feet, but by the time she wiped the last of the sand out of her eyes and got her bearings again, the doorway was empty.

“Stop!” she shouted, running out after the boys. Bigtime and Burger were already at the staircase. Bouncer came out of a nearby vault door labeled 2399 to follow them, one hand pulling a massive sack already stuffed full of artefacts from the bin. In his other hand he held a large white gemstone – like a diamond, but the size of a football, and with a distinctive crystalline pattern that made Webby gasp.

“That’s a Crepitus Crystal!” she exclaimed. “Put it down! _Very _carefully!”

Bouncer laughed. “Yeah, right,” he said, tossing the crystal into the sack. “And what are you gonna –”

The crystal clinked against something else inside the bag. And that was all it took.

The positive side to being that close to the epicenter of a fiery, magical explosion was that you died before your body could realize that you should be in pain.

* * *

Webby opened her eyes to find herself alone in the attic bedroom. It was nine twenty-three, according to the clock, and there was a snowstorm howling outside.

“Oh,” she said aloud. “As dreams go, that one was less than fun.”

She pulled on some clothes, including some thick fuzzy socks that were perfect for snow days, and padded her way downstairs. She found the boys and Lena in the TV room – and she stood there for a moment, just staring. There was a tall pyramid of muffins on the coffee table and an _Ottoman Empire _holiday special on the screen. None of these details were particularly unusual, of course, but still…

Lena looked up and noticed her standing there. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she said. “I was just about to come up and get you.”

The boys mumbled various greetings from the couch. Webby stepped into the room, picked up a muffin, and still stood there for a moment, looking around.

“...you okay?” said Lena.

“Oh, sure, I’m fine,” said Webby. “Just a bit of déjà vu.”

Lena patted the armchair cushion, and Webby took the invitation to snuggle up next to her in that comfortable way she always did. She ate the muffin, thinking.

“Has anyone heard from Violet?” she asked.

“No, but we should probably text her,” said Huey. “The roads haven’t been ploughed out yet. I’m not sure she’s gonna make it over here.”

“And Launchpad’s still at Drake’s, isn’t he,” said Webby.

“Probably,” said Dewey. “I haven’t seen or heard him all morning. If he’s not braving the roads, nobody is.”

Webby just nodded, her nerves briefly spiking. But it was hard to feel nervous when she was hanging out in front of the TV with her best friends, so she settled in next to Lena and told herself to relax.

They stayed there, watching reality TV, munching on muffins, and making occasional small talk, until suddenly there was an uptick in the wind, and the television screen dissolved into static.

“Ahh, nooo, come on!” Louie groaned. “It was just getting to the good part!”

Huey lazily slid off of the couch to go to check the cable box, stumbling a bit as his feet hit the floor.

Webby jumped to her feet, grabbing his arm and keeping him from falling into the coffee table, saving the pyramid of muffins.

“Thanks,” said Huey, walking up to the television.

“No problem,” said Webby, who was starting to feel a bit afraid.

“Whatever’s wrong with the TV, we’re probably going to have to wait until the storm stops to fix,” said Huey. “At least we still have power overall.”

“So, what now?” said Dewey. “Watch a movie?”

“Do you guys believe in premonitions?” Webby blurted, hoping with all her heart that this wasn’t a weird question.

The boys stared at her. Lena, though, shrugged.

“I mean, they’re a thing that exists,” she said. “Magical visions, glimpses of the future. Belief doesn’t have anything to do with it. I’m pretty sure you have to be born with magic to get them. I’ve never had one, though, so this is just hearsay.”

“And I wasn’t born with magic,” said Webby.

“Right. You’re incredible in a lot of ways, Pink. Just not this one. Why do you want to know about premonitions, anyway?”

Webby shrugged. “No reason. Just a feeling. A movie sounds great, let’s watch a movie!”

The boys and Lena looked at each other for a moment.

“I’ll go get my laptop,” Lena said. “Time to give that _Hamiltern _bootleg a watch.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds much safer than hide and seek,” Webby said for no apparent reason.

They were in the middle of the wedding scene, singing along with Angelica Skylark, when the mansion erupted in a sudden flash of white-hot flame.

* * *

Webby opened her eyes to find herself alone in the attic bedroom. It was nine twenty-three, according to the clock, and there was a snowstorm howling outside.

“Twice is a coincidence,” she said to herself as she pulled on her clothes. “Three times is certain.”

She grabbed a notebook and pen, and ran downstairs to the TV room. Sure enough, there were the others, and the _Ottoman Empire _episode playing on the television, and the pyramid of muffins.

“We’re in a time loop!” she declared. All eyes turned to her.

“We’re in a what now?” said Dewey.

“A magical hourglass broke on top of me, and now we’re in a time loop,” said Webby. “Or at least _I’m _in a time loop. The rest of you are just along for the ride, living this day as though for the first time.”

“A time loop, huh?” said Louie. “Like in that Bill Furry movie?”

“Exactly like that Bill Furry movie.” Webby opened the notebook, looking at her watch. “Nine-thirty-two,” she said aloud, writing it down. “I get to the TV room. _Ottoman Empire _and muffins.”

“What’s the notebook for?” said Lena.

“Taking notes on literally everything that happens in the next few hours,” said Webby. “That’s what you do when there’s a time loop – take notes on everything.”

“And you’re sure that we’re in a time loop?” Huey pulled the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook out from under his hat, flipping through it. “According to the JWG, those are purely theoretical. The stuff of fairy tales.”

“You’re literally sitting in the same room as a witch, Hubert,” said Lena.

“Witches have been proven to exist and now have a page in the back of the guidebook!” Huey replied indignantly.

“Because you put it there, nerd,” Lena rolled her eyes. “There are more things in life than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Herontio.”

“And I need to know exactly what happens when if I’m gonna figure out a way out of the loop,” said Webby. “When the cable goes out, when the Beagles break into the Other Bin, when everything explodes –”

“Wait, what?!” everyone else shouted.

“Oh yeah, that’s the end of the loop,” said Webby, checking her watch again. “Bouncer Beagle grabs a Crepitus Crystal from a vault in the Other Bin, and it blows up.”

Lena hissed. “Yeah, that’s what those do. Why the heck does Uncle Scrooge have a _Crepitus Crystal _underneath his house?”

“To keep anyone else from getting their hands on it and causing a disaster like this one, presumably,” said Webby.

“But I didn’t notice an explosion,” said Dewey. “Or a break-in. Did any of you?”

“Because it hasn’t happened yet!” said Webby. “The explosion, I mean. The Beagles might already be in the mansion. I need to go downstairs and check. But if I go down there, then I won’t see when the cable goes out. Hm. This will take a couple loops, to get all my notes done.”

“Can you take the notes with you from one loop to another?” said Louie. “If so, there’s gotta be a way we can monetize this…”

“I’m not sure yet,” said Webby. “Probably not. So far I’ve woken up back in my pajamas every time. But still, the act of writing it down helps me remember. So, I’ll make notes up here this time, and figure out the timing for downstairs on the next loop, tracking the Beagles’ movements…”

“How do the Beagles get into the Other Bin, though?” Lena asked. “They don’t have your years of investigative research. Or our superior detective skills.”

“Someone gave them a tip,” Webby said. “I overheard them on the first loop. Bigtime mentioned an ‘old hag.’”

Lena went pale. “She would, wouldn’t she,” she said.

“Who would?” said Dewey.

Louie shook his head. “Come on, Dewey, there is literally only one _she _with Lena.”

“And she was there watching the whole time when we broke into the Other Bin.” Lena stood, rubbing her hands together in that way she did when she was trying to hide how they were shaking. “If my aunt’s back in town –”

“We’ll protect you,” said Webby. “For now, we gotta figure out how to stop the Beagle Boys before they blow up the mansion again.”

“Accepting the premise that we _are _in a time loop,” said Huey, “how do you know that anything’s going to happen the way that it did the first time around? The laws of causality can be _very _complicated.”

“Well, I went downstairs and confronted the Beagles in the Other Bin, and we blew up,” said Webby. “I stayed up here and watched _Hamiltern _with you guys, and we blew up. Given the Beagle Boys’ greed and the volatile nature of the Crepitus Crystal, it’s probably always going to happen this way. Unless I figure out a way to stop them. Though if we don’t blow up in, hm, around an hour from now I think, that’ll be a good sign.”

“…so, do we need to break a magical hourglass over your head to make sure that you come back again if we _do _blow up, or what,” said Dewey.

“It only broke on me once, and I’ve come back twice.” Webby said, making a note of it in the book.

“Whatever that hourglass was, its powers span across time resets,” said Lena. “Or parallel timelines or wormholes or whatever it is we’re actually dealing with here.”

The cable went out with a staticky hiss. Webby looked at her watch again.

“Let the countdown begin,” she said. The boys swallowed nervously.

As it turned out, Webby couldn’t take the notes back in time with her. But she did figure out that the explosion occurred sometime between ten-forty-five and eleven o’clock.

* * *

“So, the Beagle Boys are in the Other Bin right now,” said Lena.

“Right.”

“And you know this because you’re in a time loop,” said Dewey.

“Right.”

“Like in that Bill Furry movie?” said Louie.

“It’s sort of like that Bill Furry movie,” said Webby. “It’s probably more like the one with Tom Goose and the aliens, since it resets when I die. It hasn’t yet gone to a full day, so I don’t know what happens if I fall asleep again.”

“But time loops are purely theoretical,” said Huey. “The stuff of fairy tales. The Junior Woodchuck Guidebook says –”

“I know what the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook says, Huey, because you’ve told me the last three loops! And then Lena quotes Drakespeare at you to get you to shut up about it, and then Louie tries to figure out if we can monetize it…”

“To be fair, you don’t have to be in a time loop to know that I would do that,” said Louie.

“So what’s the plan?” said Lena.

“So far the Beagles have beaten me to the Other Bin every time,” Webby said. “Magica de Spell must have given them very clear instructions of how to get in. Our best shot is to confront them in the bin as a group and chase them out before they get into the Crepitus Crystal’s vault.”

“Hence the dart guns,” said Dewey.

Webby nodded. “Hence the dart guns. Let’s move out, men. And woman.”

“Thank you,” said Lena.

Webby led the others down to the Other Bin. None of the boys had accompanied Lena and Webby the last time they’d come down here (as far as the main timeline was concerned, at least; Webby had been down here a few times now), and so they looked around with great interest as they climbed through the vault-door portrait.

“We should tell Scrooge –” Lena began.

“– to update security on the Other Bin so Magica can’t tell anyone else how to get in,” Webby interrupted. “Don’t worry, we will.”

“I’ve said that before then?” Lena said with a nervous smile.

“A few times,” said Webby. “You’re good at thinking ahead. Shh, I can hear them.”

“…that old hag’s tip was good for something after all,” Bigtime’s voice echoed back towards him. “Ma’s gonna be so proud!”

And there he was, at the end of the hall, talking to Burger as he tugged open the door of a vault.

Webby held up her dart gun. “Attack!” she shouted, and the kids rushed the very surprised Beagles, firing off darts in all directions.

Burger bolted, heading deeper into the Other Bin. “We got him!” Lena shouted as she and Louie ran off after him.

Bigtime tried to run in the other direction, only to be cornered by Dewey and Webby, who held him at dart-gunpoint.

“The only place you’re going is out of here, empty-handed,” said Webby.

“Aw yeah, Duck Kids ambush!” Dewey said, poking Bigtime towards the stairs with his dart gun. “That’s just how we Dewey-it.”

“Stupid brats,” Bigtime snarled, but he held his hands up and started to walk towards the stairs.

Webby felt a flash of triumph, but then she frowned. “Wait,” she said, “where’s Bouncer?”

Huey’s scream answered her question. He slammed against the wall above their heads, falling to the floor next to Webby in a crumpled heap. Further down the hall, Bouncer’s arm was still on the follow-through from having thrown the much smaller duck.

“Huey?!” Dewey and Webby knelt at his side. He wasn’t moving.

“We’ve been made!” Bigtime shouted. “Just grab what you can and go!” Webby looked up just in time to see Bouncer yank open a nearby vault door, labeled 2399.

“No!” she screamed, running after him. She didn’t even make it to the door.

* * *

Webby frowned at the open vault portrait door. She’d taken too much time to prepare, and the Beagle Boys were once again already in the Other Bin. This time, she was alone – and she wasn’t happy about that, because she went down there all alone in the first loop, and it had been a whole mess – but going down alone was better than getting her friends hurt again.

Besides, this time she knew what was waiting for her down there, and she’d taken the opportunity to arm herself – she had a mace and a crossbow strapped to her back, her grappling hook at her belt, and several grenades in her pockets. She could do this.

It was harder to be sneaky while bearing weapons, but all those years of survival training hadn’t been for nothing. She crept down the row of vaults, following the now-familiar noises of the Beagle Boys rifling through her uncle’s most dangerous possessions. She reached the point in the hallway where they turned back to almost catch a glimpse of her, and she ducked into the nearest vault – which was also a familiar one, now, since it held the hourglass.

Webby took a moment to look at the hourglass. It was just as she’d seen it the first time, small and translucent and shiny – but there seemed to be less sand in it than before. Was she using it up every time the crystal exploded and she jumped back? Was there a limit to how many times she could do this?

It didn’t matter. She was going to beat them this time.

“What d’you think’s in this one?” came a voice from right outside the door, but this time Webby was ready for it. As Bigtime Beagle kicked, she pulled the door open, causing him to fall forward onto his face. Webby shoved him back out the door again with the mace, knocking over Burger, who was standing behind him.

“We’ve been made!” Bigtime yowled. Webby fired her grappling hook at the ceiling, pulling herself up to swing across the hall towards vault 2399. The door was open – but Bouncer hadn’t stepped inside yet. She fired several shots from the crossbow, pinning Bouncer’s arms to the wall by their sleeves.

“If you want to get out of here alive,” she said to him as she landed on the floor, “drop the sack and leave, _now._”

Bouncer snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Suddenly Webby was grabbed from behind. She kicked backwards, and Bigtime screamed in pain, unfortunately dragging her with him as he fell over again. At the same moment, Bouncer ripped himself free of the crossbow bolts – leaving quite a bit of shirt stuck to the wall – and stepped into the vault.

“Like I’m leaving a diamond this huge behind,” he said.

“It’s not a diamond!” Webby screamed. “Don’t touch it! It’s a –”

* * *

Webby sat on her bed, staring at her cell phone. She needed back-up. She needed an adult. But who could she call? Huey was right, the roads hadn’t been ploughed yet. Launchpad was snowed in at St. Canard, and Gyro was probably snowed in at his lab, too – or coming up with a way to turn snowplows evil. Even if Gizmoduck could have flown through the storm safely, the Cabrera household’s phone line was dead. Donald and Della were out of cell phone range. Uncle Scrooge and her grandmother were in New Stork, clear on the other side of the country, and they’d taken a public flight for once. And who even knew where Duckworth was.

And even if she got ahold of anyone, who could get home in time to help? She had less than two hours to work with. Less than two hours until the Crepitus Crystal exploded and everyone in the mansion died, again. She needed advice. There was no one who could advise her. She should tell her friends, so they could advise her. She shouldn’t tell her friends, lest they got themselves hurt in the fight.

She had to do _something. _But her brain was going round and round in circles, just like time was, and the more she went over it in her head, the more anxious she got, and the more anxious she got, the harder it was to think, but she had to do _something…_

* * *

The other teens didn’t have any time to look up before Webby came running into the TV room, throwing their coats over their heads.

“Coats on! Boots on! We’re getting out of here. Let’s go go go!”

“Go where?” Louie pointed at the snow-covered window. “Out in _that?_”

“It’s not exactly a good time for a snowball fight, Webby,” said Huey.

“We have to get as far away from the mansion as we can, for our own safety,” said Webby. “Now _please _stop wasting time with questions and put your coats on!”

“You heard her!” said Lena, who already had her coat on and was now wrapping a scarf around her face. The boys looked at each other uncertainly but followed suit.

Webby ushered them through the foyer and out the front door. A blast of frigid wind threatened all of their balance on the porch.

“How exactly is it safer out here than inside with TV and muffins and hot chocolate?” Huey shouted over the wind.

Webby was already walking down the front steps, determinedly combatting the wind. “The immediate discomfort of the snowstorm is _much _preferable to the imminent danger that awaits us an hour and a half from now.”

“An hour and a half from now?” Dewey echoed. “How do you know this?”

“Because I’m stuck in a time loop, that’s how.”

“A time loop? Like in that –”

“YES, Louie, it’s like the Bill Furry movie!”

Huey frowned. “But the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook says –”

“If Webby says it’s not safe to be in the mansion, then it’s not safe to be in the mansion!” Lena snapped. “Now shut up and walk!”

Webby led the way down the hill and towards downtown. Every step was a soggy struggle in a storm like this, and they kept having to pause to brace themselves against the wind, but Webby refused to let anyone turn back.

She finally allowed them to stop a couple blocks into the financial district, yanking open the door of a coffeeshop. The teens piled inside, gratefully shutting the door against the wind, ignoring the surprised looks of the employees in the otherwise empty room.

“Any other day I’d be wondering why the heck Starbeaks makes their workers come in on a day like this,” Lena said, pulling off her hat and shaking snow out of her hair. “But today, I’m fine with it.”

“I just hope this is far enough away.” Webby looked at her watch. “Well, it better be.”

“Far enough away from what?” said Huey. “Exactly what is going to happen?”

The light of the explosion reached the windows half an instant before the sound did – and all eyes went to the windows, and the hill upon which McDuck Manor stood and surveyed the town of Duckburg. Except there was no manor, and there quickly was no hill, as an enormous ball of white fire expanded, crumbling everything in its wake.

At the heart of the explosion, Webby had never had the chance to think about what was happening while it happened. Now she had her mittens pressed to the windowpane, staring at the street as it fell apart and hearing the boys and the Starbeaks employees exclaim in horror as the buildings between them and the manor collapsed. Now she had the time to think, _oh dear god, this is too big for me to fix._

Lena was standing right behind her, and her arms opened to envelop Webby as she turned to bury her face in the front of Lena’s coat, and then the ceiling came down on top of them.

* * *

Webby woke up at nine twenty-three a.m.

She did not get out of bed.

Maybe if she just lay there and cried herself back to sleep, this time she wouldn’t wake up again. That way she wouldn’t have to try to stop the inevitable anymore. She wouldn’t have to fail her friends, her family, and the entirety of Duckburg anymore. She could just sleep.

After a while – she wasn’t paying attention to time, what would be the point of that? She only had about two hours to live anyway – there were footsteps on the ladder, and then on the attic floor, and then Lena climbed into the bed to lie next to her.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Lena said.

Webby said nothing.

“…you okay?” Lena prompted after a moment.

“…no.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m not sure what good it’ll do.”

Lena put her arm over Webby. “Try me.”

So Webby did. She told Lena everything, from the first time she’d woken up this morning, to the ill-fated game of hide and seek, to her realizing that she was in a loop, to everything she’d done to try to fix it – confronting the Beagles on her own, and failing, confronting the Beagles as a group, and failing, running away from the problem entirely, and failing. The whole time, Lena listened, gently rubbing Webby’s back and making concerned noises at appropriate moments.

“I don’t know what to do,” Webby finally said.

“You come to me, that’s what you do,” said Lena. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Webby looked at the clock. “We can’t. We’re almost out of time for this loop.”

“Then come to me on the next one. And the next. Every time you wake up, come straight to me. Tell me what’s going on. I’ll believe you. I’ll always believe you; you know I will. And we’ll figure out how to stop this together.”

“What if you get hurt?”

Lena shrugged. “I could always get hurt. That’s life. And so can you, Webby. You’re hurting now. Let me take some of the weight. I’m here for you, and no matter how many times you live today over, I’ll always be here for you. Got it?”

Webby pressed her face into Lena’s sweater. “Got it,” she said, a bit muffled.

They stayed there, together, until the end of the loop.

* * *

“I have a good feeling about this one, I really do.” Webby was bouncing on the balls of her feet in front of vault 2399. “I’ve _never _beaten them here before. This is a good sign. A very good sign.”

“So we’re here to stop the Beagles from blowing up Duckburg with a Crepitus Crystal,” said Lena.

“We just have to keep them away from this vault,” Webby said, pointing at the door. “We didn’t stop to grab any weapons or anything, but when I do that, they get here first. Maybe it’ll just be enough to catch them in the act…”

There was a distant _clank _as the secret entrance opened, and then many, heavy footsteps on the metal stairs.

“It’s go time,” said Webby, balling her fists and taking on a combat stance in front of door 2399. Lena gave her a sideways look.

“Just how many times have you lived this morning, anyway?” she said.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Webby. “This is the last time.”

“…to rob McDuck blind!” Bigtime’s voice came from around the corner and down the hall. “Spread out, boys.”

“Should we hide?” Lena whispered.

Webby shook her head. “The ambush approach always goes wrong. And if they don’t see us, they won’t leave.”

Lena nodded, and they stood there as the footsteps came closer, and then Bouncer came around the corner. His eyes fell on them.

“It’s the brats!” he shouted. “Bigtime, they’re here!”

“We’ve been made!” Bigtime shouted back from afar. “Just grab what you can and go!”

“How about you just go?” Webby suggested with a sinister sort of grin.

Bouncer sneered at her, and he turned, closing his fist around the handle of a nearby vault – not one that Webby had seen him open before.

“Wait!” she shouted, but Bouncer yanked the door open – and he was immediately bowled over by an even more massive creature leaping through the entrance. It stood astride Bouncer and let out a roar that shook the Other Bin. Its head and body were like those of an enormous lion, but there were two gray, leathery wings unfolding from its back, and its tail ended in the sharp, black tip of a scorpion’s.

“Manticore!” said Webby, and it was one of those weird moments where for half a second her brain was in _oh my gosh I’ve always wanted to see one of those _mode, and then the manticore kicked Bouncer down the hall as though he weighed no more than a pillow, and Webby’s brain switched back into _holy shit we’re all going to die _mode.

“We have to get it back inside!” she shouted to Lena. “Just like the sword horse!”

“This is _much _bigger than the sword horse!” Lena shouted back. The manticore lunged towards the two girls, who leapt away in opposite directions. Webby tucked and rolled, coming back to her feet to find the manticore’s bright yellow eyes staring directly at her.

“You big, bad kitty!” said Webby. “We were finally about to win!”

The manticore snarled, raising a clawed paw. Webby prepared herself to jump out of the way again.

A ball of pink energy crackled against the back of the manticore’s head. “Hey!” Lena shouted. “Over here, you big beast!”

She was trying to draw its attention, clearly. Which ought to have been a smart move, getting it turned back towards the open vault door again. Except that the manticore didn’t even bother turning around – and Webby didn’t even have enough time to cry “Lena, look out!” before the scorpion tail came stabbing downwards, puncturing through Lena’s chest.

Lena screamed. Webby screamed. Behind her, Bigtime and Burger screamed, having finally come around the corner to see what had happened to their brother. The manticore rounded on these two newcomers, and as the Beagle Boys ran, it pursued them deeper into the Other Bin.

Webby rushed to Lena’s side. She was slumped on the ground in a spreading puddle of an awful dark liquid – not red like blood should be, but the color of whatever awful poison the manticore had pumped into her as it struck.

“No, no, no!” Webby wailed. She put her hands on Lena’s cheeks, trying to make her look at her, but Lena’s eyes were unfocused, her limbs completely limp. Elsewhere the manticore was roaring and the Beagles were screaming, but those sounds didn’t matter at all, nothing battered at all except that Lena was – was – she couldn’t even think it, it was such a foreign, incomprehensible, unacceptable thought.

Webby let Lena’s head fall down to the puddle, and stood, her eyes falling on the vault across the way, the one with the hourglass inside. How much silver sand was left? Did it matter? No, of course it didn’t matter, because there was no way that this was the way this ended, it was impossible that this could be the last loop.

Webby turned away from that vault and towards door 2399. She pulled it open. And there it was, the Crepitus Crystal, sitting on a pillow with a big “do not touch” sign in front of it.

She walked over, grabbed the crystal, and threw it on the ground.

* * *

Webby came downstairs and into the TV room, quietly climbing onto the armchair and wrapping her arms around Lena’s middle.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” said Lena, “I was just about to come up and get you.”

Webby just pressed her face into Lena’s sweater.

“…you okay?” Lena whispered after a moment.

“I am now,” Webby whispered back.

* * *

“There has to be something I’ve missed,” Webby said. “Some angle I haven’t tried.”

She and Lena were sitting on the stairs in the foyer. Lena had her journal open on her lap, making notes as Webby described the loops.

“But I’ve tried _everything!_” Webby continued. “Running, fighting, having you guys help, going it alone – and none of it works! Someone always gets hurt, the crystal always explodes. It never ever works.”

Lena turned back a page, rereading her notes. “So you wake up at nine-twenty-three every day, and everything blows up around eleven.”

“Correct.”

“And the Beagles are always in the Other Bin, having followed my aunt’s directions, by ten.”

“Yeah.”

“How did you find out they were in the Other Bin in the first place again?”

“They tracked snow into the mansion,” said Webby. “I followed the puddles they left behind. The snow melted by the time I found it.”

“And you’ve never seen the boys inside the mansion – just the footprint puddles.”

Webby shook her head. “I either take the time to prepare to face them in the Other Bin, and then they’re in there already, or I beat them to the bin and haven’t prepared anything, and things _still _go wrong.”

“Huh.” Lena tapped her pen against her journal. “Well, for all the intel you’ve gathered, there’s one question you haven’t answered.”

“What’s that?”

“How do the Beagle Boys get into the mansion in the first place?” said Lena. “Have you ever waited for them to get into the bin, and then followed the puddles backwards?”

Webby’s eyes went wide. Then she grinned even wider.

“Lena, you gorgeous genius, I could kiss you!” she exclaimed, hopping up and running out of the room, and consequently missing the way Lena’s face went bright red.

“I mean, sure, if you want to,” Lena muttered, but Webby wasn’t there to hear it anymore, and in any case, once time jumped back again, this conversation never happened.

* * *

Bigtime and Burger were already standing in the kitchen, reaching back to help Bouncer shove his way in through the window, when someone cleared their throat behind them. They turned, and there was Webby, standing in the center of the room, wearing a pink nightgown and looking at her watch.

“Nine twenty-five, right on the dot,” said Webby. “You’re punctual, that’s for sure. I had to skip getting dressed to beat you here.”

“What do you want, brat?” said Bigtime.

Lena stepped into the kitchen. “Webby, I got your text, what –?” She stopped, staring at the snow-covered Beagle Boys and pajama-clad Webby.

“Okay, now that we’re all here, let me tell you how this goes,” said Webby. “You Beagles were told that there’s a vault of dangerous magical treasures under the mansion, as well as clues for how to get inside. And yes, the vault exists, and you will get into it. But in the process, you knock over a magical hourglass, trapping me in a time loop just like the protagonists of a couple different movies that I am never _ever _going to watch again. Then – despite my best efforts – you break an incredibly fragile and powerful Crepitus Crystal, causing an explosion that wipes out at least half of Duckburg. Literally every time, whether I’m there trying to stop you or not, you break that stupid thing and cause your own deaths and the deaths of literally everyone else we know. So, guys, seriously – I don’t know what Magica de Spell told you that you’d find in there, what riches she promised you, but let _me _promise you that there’s nothing inside the Other Bin but danger and death. If not because of the crystal, then because of the manticore which is _also _down there, hungry for your blood. So please, could you just do us all a favor and go home?”

Everyone stared at Webby for several seconds.

Bigtime frowned. “How do we know you’re not just lying to keep us away from the loot?”

Lena laughed. “Have you _heard _Webby try to lie before?” she said. “Seriously, boys – blowing up Duckburg? Yeah, that’s gonna make your Ma proud, destroying literally everything she’s fighting for.”

Bigtime and Burger looked at each other. Outside the window, Bouncer shivered.

“Bigtime, I’m cold,” he said. “And this sounds harder than we thought. Maybe we should just go home.”

Bigtime snarled. “Fine. I didn’t trust that old hag anyway. Whatever stupid magic stuff McDuck has in his vault is gonna be more trouble than it’s worth. Let’s get out of here.”

And they climbed back out through the window, grumbling as they slogged away through the snow again.

Webby closed and latched the window, wiping a spot clear of fog so she could keep watching them leave, until they were hidden by the storm.

“You okay, Pink?” said Lena.

“You’re the one who figured it out,” Webby replied, still looking at the window. “I was stuck seeing the situation as it happened, right where it happened. You’re the one who thought outside the bin. I couldn’t do it on my own – I needed you to be here.”

“Hey.” Lena put a hand on Webby’s shoulder. “I’m here. And it’s over.”

Webby shook her head. “Not yet. There’s still one thing left to do.”

* * *

Webby and Lena were sitting on the stairs in the foyer when Scrooge and Beakley came in through the front door, shaking snow off of their coats.

“Blasted commercial airline weather delays,” said Scrooge. “This is why I have a private pilot.”

“Uncle Scrooge!” Webby shouted, running up to him. “You have to update security on the Other Bin! Right away!”

Scrooge frowned. “What’s all this about?”

Webby hesitated. Her mouth was open, but her brain seemed to have frozen. Where even should she start?

“Webbigail?” Beakley said suspiciously.

Webby took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. “Well, you see, this morning –”

“It’s my fault,” Lena interrupted, coming up behind her. “Uncle Scrooge, Aunt Magica was still in my shadow when Webby and I first broke into the Other Bin. She watched us solve the clues to open the door. She knows how to get in, and what kind of dangerous stuff is in there – and who knows when she might try to use that info, or who she might pass it on to. We need to fix that before anyone gets hurt.”

While she spoke, Scrooge and Beakley’s frowns gradually softened.

“What you did under duress from your aunt is not your fault,” Beakley said.

“All the same, you’re right,” said Scrooge. “The contents of that bin, in the wrong hands, could be disastrous.”

“It definitely would be,” Webby said, nodding emphatically.

Scrooge cracked his knuckles and tossed his coat to Beakley, who rolled her eyes and muttered something about not being a coat-hanger which Scrooge completely ignored.

“Time to get to work,” he said, beginning to walk off down the hall. “I’ll devise a puzzle so tricky not even the two of you will be able to crack it!”

“You do realize we’re going to take that as a challenge, right?” Lena called after him.

“That’s my girls!” Scrooge shouted back, disappearing around the corner.

“Please, for all that is good in the world, do _not _take that as a challenge,” Beakley said, leaving in the opposite direction.

Webby turned her head from side to side, watching them both go. Then she turned to Lena. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Take the blame, put the focus on yourself. I was going to tell them!”

“Webby, you’ve been shaking all day,” said Lena. “You don’t need to rehash all that happened to you in however many loops you went through. Not right now.”

“I stopped counting at twenty,” said Webby, and this time she noticed her own shudder.

Lena put a hand on her shoulder. “Someday you’ll be ready to talk about it more. But trust me, there’s no need to push it. Until then, let me take on some of the weight.”

Webby smiled. “You always do,” she said, hugging Lena.

**Author's Note:**

> In early notes for this story, I had Lena going through the loops instead of Webby. But like, I put Lena through a LOT in my stories anyway, she deserved a break. And we all write so much about how Webby is good for Lena, it was definitely time to take a step back and write about how Lena is good for Webby, too.


End file.
